


Laughter

by FortuneSurfer



Category: Per qualche dollaro in più | For a Few Dollars More (1965)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 12:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25849609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FortuneSurfer/pseuds/FortuneSurfer
Summary: Challenge accepted! Written for my friend's prompt in the title.
Relationships: "Manco" | The Man with No Name/Douglas Mortimer
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Laughter

The grey sky above holds a promise of a long rain, and a weeping willow beneath it stretches its long moving branches to a tall lonesome figure whose black frack coat is billowing in the wind. An outside spectator wouldn’t know it, but the man and the tree share a special bond for the man ordered to have it planted here nearly a decade ago.

The silhouette of Mortimer, who has respectfully taken his hat off, is the only marked spot that looks all the more provoking in the dull landscape of stones and fences.

Manco is smoking one of his cigars at a distance, giving his partner some time for a private conversation before he‘ll join him, which he frankly very much wants to at that point. He has no superstitious fear or really any feelings about being at the final resting place of a man because he doesn’t see it this way, but the look of Mortimer all alone against this background gives him a wrong sensation in his guts.

Their element are the awe-inspiring American expanse and all the same-looking crime-ridden wooden cities in the West. But they’re here, far away from that now because he wanted to do Mortimer a favor.

As he approaches Mortimer, Manco takes off his hat, too. They just stand in silence for some time, and Manco inspects the cross in front of him, and the fresh flowers in two big vases on either side of it, the inscription on the well-kept gravestone, and especially the modest and brief “in loving memory.” Manco still doesn’t know much about the young woman buried here, but in spite of it and perhaps even because of it, he can imagine how little these words convey.

“This might be my last time coming here,” finally says Mortimer, putting his hat back on.

“Oh?” To himself, Manco immediately approves the announced decision.

“Things have changed. And I think she would be the first to call me a fool if I failed to admit it.” Douglas hesitates but tentatively puts a hand on Manco’s shoulder and thanks him with an appreciative, deeply personal gleam in his eyes that warms Manco from inside despite the cold wind. “Thanks for indulging me, my boy. You’re a good partner, and your presence puts everything into perspective.”

“You know I’m always here for you, old man,” replies Manco earnestly and means it more than he could say without running the risk of turning his stupid heart inside-out.

“Yes. You are,” agrees Mortimer.

Manco watches him as he approaches the cross to place a hand on it.

“It’s sad to realize that as the years roll on I’m bound to forget. I don’t remember her voice anymore. Only her laughter.” Mortimer’s touch lingers on the stone, like he is trying to feel something. Or let go of a feeling. Then, he says: “Happy birthday, my little sister.”

He tells Manco that they can take off after he’ll have a chat with the cemetery keeper, whom he regularly sends payments to keep the plot respectable, and leaves the grave under the gentle drizzling rain.

Manco doesn’t follow him right away. He isn’t sure if he feels even a faint track of somebody’s presence, but he still nods to the gravestone and says what he feels is important to say: “I’m taking good care of him.”

The gravestone silently witnesses how the silhouette of one bounty hunter is joined by that of the other one.


End file.
